


A Playwright's Life

by gubby3



Category: South Park
Genre: ??????? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Kyman - Freeform, M/M, style
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-04-27 15:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14428935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubby3/pseuds/gubby3
Summary: There's no particular reason why Cartman decided to help with Kyle's play, except that he's sort of in the process of falling in love with him.High school AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been taking a break from my other story "You'll Be Back" so I wanted to write some oneshots! If you have any theme or drabble suggestions, feel free to comment them. :) I actually like this concept more than I expected to, so if enough people want me to make this a chapter fic, I just might? Please let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> *This was loosely inspired by this awesome animatic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x_MuVdOXDJw&t=13s

Cartman would never have been so ecstatic about being part of something that just screams gay.

That is, until he discovered that he’s gay, and to top it off, his sexual awakening was none other than his once worst enemy.

Kyle, the know-it-all Jew.

Actually, Mel Gibson was probably his first ever hint towards his possible realization of his sexuality, but that’s beside the point.

His younger self must be so disappointed and entertained at how he turned out.

Damn the beautiful, kind, dorky motherfucker for doing this to him…

“Fatass, you still here? I know you must be starving, but lunch was twenty minutes ago, so do try to abstain from daydreaming about food for a while.”

Flaring his nostrils, Cartman smacks Kyle’s waving hand in front of his face, causing the latter to let out an amused snicker. The brunette maintains his practiced frown with precision. He turns his neck and gaze elsewhere to hide his burning cheeks.

“Shut your stupid face, Gayspeare.”

Eyes still staring anywhere but at the redhead, Cartman’s lips briefly twitch upwards at the sound of Kyle’s continued laughter gracing his ears. His smile fades as soon as Cartman realizes its presence on his lips.

Why does everything this adorable bastard do make him so flustered?

Cartman has had to exert infuriating amounts of self control over his whining emotions and needy hormones, both desperate to call Kyle his. The two’s hatred for each other dissipated throughout the years, their relationship becoming more amiable with age. Now sophomores, Kyle even refers to them as friends, which Cartman is hasty to dismiss.

After all, he wants to be far more than friends.

So much more…

A hand snakes onto Cartman’s shoulder, and to his shame, he jumps like a cat that’s been dunked in water. 

“Dude, fuck you! You’re gonna make me mess up this goddamn tree, idiot.” Cartman flips back long enough to the hovering teen to drink up the immediate change of his expression. The grin on the redhead’s face is heavied down into a slightly agape, sullen pout and the gleeful light dancing in his already vibrant moss eyes dims. Oddly satisfied and apologetic over Kyle’s sudden regret, Cartman turns his back once again and continues to dab with his brush at the nearly complete forest background with delicate, calculated movements. The fingers drop off his paint stained shirt, the rest of the warmth within Cartman’s body fleeing with it.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re working really hard on this. It means a lot to me.” Kyle’s voice is low and honest, its vulnerability causing a shift in Cartman’s lowered form. Cartman adjusts his bent feet in an attempt to recalibrate his disturbed inner cogs, and his breath hitches at the sound of Kyle taking several steps back. Panic shoots violently through the brunette’s body at the thought of the other leaving. He rotates his toes so hastily that he almost knocks over the bucket of paint beside him. Instead of being faced with Kyle’s retreating frame, his eyes widen at the sight of the redhead gazing up appreciatively at the entirety of his painting. “You’ve outdone yourself, Cartman. This is gorgeous.”

‘You’re gorgeous.’

The words want to escape Cartman’s mouth so badly that he bites his lips to hold them in. Cartman moves one of his knees onto the stage and brings the other towards his chest to balance himself yet again.

“Whatever, your stupid play better be worth all this effort.”

Kyle’s smile perks back up at the statement, and Cartman returns it with an impish grin.

“Man, I sure hope so. The absolute worst part of my first opportunity to direct being a bust would be that your wonderful setup goes to waste on my shitty performance.”

The redhead’s hands uncross themselves and are shoved into his pockets. The recently returned glee is lost from his face once more, his expression hardening in serious contemplation. A dull ache spreads through Cartman’s body with each heartbeat from the somber image.

“Your play is going to be fucking amazing, okay? Don’t you dare doubt it. The theatre department chose yours outta a hell of a lot, and they wouldn’t bother running and funding it if it was crap.”

Kyle goes quiet at the sincerity of Cartman’s words and expression. Mind made up, the redhead recalls why he came over to bug his longtime frenemy in the first place, knowing that the other hates being bothered while working. With a quick breath out, Kyle moves next to Cartman, lowering himself to the floor beside him.

“Cartman, there’s something that I have to tell you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and, well, there’s someone I like, and I finally want to confess to him, but we’ve been friends for so long that I don’t know if he would ever see me as anything more and the last thing I want to do is ruin what we already have, and…”

A finger is pressed into his running lips. Kyle goes silent, perplexed as he and Cartman stare into one another’s depths.

“You can stop flapping your lips, I get what you’re saying. I’m totally stoked that this is happening right now, but I can’t say that I didn’t expect it. In retrospect, I guess you have been making your true feelings pretty obvious recently…” 

Kyle’s veins freeze at the other’s bluntness about his crush, but he too shouldn’t be so surprised. Cartman has always been an acute observer, and while he may not be like most people, he sure as hell understands them better than anyone. It’s how he was able to manipulate so many when they were kids…

“So, you’ll help me come up with a way to ask out Stan?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have decided to continue this! :D Thank you so much to those who left kudos and comments. If it weren't for your feedback, I probably would never have gotten this done! With that said, please let me know how you're enjoying the story so far, feedback is so motivating!

The hopeful smile beaming on Kyle’s face grows as Cartman’s own diminishes. 

Of course, Kyle likes Stan. Those two have been joined at the hip since their diaper days, so it's perfectly plausible that the ginger has developed a crush on his butt buddy.

Still, it hurts Cartman way too much for him to accept right now.

Cue the sarcastic, shitty humor to defend his fragile interior…

His mouth falls open but no words come out. Licking at his lips, Cartman forces a manic, painful grin to break out across his face. He’s more than aware of the tremors shooting through his limbs. Not wanting to mess up his masterpiece, Cartman drops his paintbrush into the bucket with heavy fingers, the gentle echo of its impact a thunderstorm wreaking havoc in his head. All at once, he’s aware of everything and nothing; his vision briefly blurs as the room spins. Nausea drowns out the rest of his remaining senses. Cartman is suddenly so overwhelmed by reality that he wants nothing more than to crash to the floor and cradle his knees.

“Cartman, are you okay? You look pale.” 

Oh, damn that sweet, concerned voice. It cuts through his internal hysteria with ease, calming the chaos. Cartman isn’t supposed to be swept off his feet by this goddamn Jew. He’s not meant to notice how hard Kyle works and how smart he is and how nice he smells. They’re destined to be on opposite sides, never allowing their worlds to meet and melt into each other’s atmospheres. Cartman and Kyle always find reasons to despise one another, no matter how much progress they make to being friends. Speaking of which, when was the last time they had a real fight?

Kyle likes Stan. Kyle wants his help on how to get in his best friend’s pants.

This seems like a good time to rekindle their flame of hatred.

Sardonic laughter bubbles out of his aching ribcage as he eyes Kyle with practiced derision.

“Oh Kyle, you're so pathetic,” each syllable is drawn out and taunting, “Do you seriously think that I'm going to help you get buttfucked by your best bud? Or would you be the one doing the fucking?”

“Cartman, don't do this.”

“Maybe you guys would take turns or something?”

“Cartman…”

“Not like it's gonna happen, being that he's in a relationship and all. You must be desperate for your owner, huh? Looks like ol’ Stanny has been neglecting his most loyal dog.”

“Eric, shut up! Just stop talking!”

At one point during Cartman's spiel, his sense of grounding had dissipated. Despite years of trading verbal blows, Cartman felt sick throughout the entirety of his speech, and paid little attention to what his experienced mouth spat. While he did what he had intended to do, seeing the outcome of his cruelty made Cartman instantly regret it. Kyle’s eyes are alight with a terrible mix of fury and grief, his hands balled into shaking fists at his sides. In this moment, Kyle is a brewing hurricane, and Cartman hates how much he loves it. Of course, Cartman is upset with himself for upsetting Kyle, but seeing the redhead so engulfed with emotion is always a beautiful sight to behold. Kyle hasn't been one to hold back his thoughts or keep his feelings at bay. Instead of monitoring them at a safe distance, Kyle never fails to let them loose and roam free, driven by his untamed passion. In this moment, Cartman is fully aware that he fell in love with Kyle’s ridiculously powerful fighting spirit.

Love? Huh, Cartman thinks that sounds about right.

As wondrous as it is to see Kyle so enchantingly fired up, Cartman knows that he needs to calm him down through genuine apologies. It's been so amiable between the two that Cartman has grown used to the little hostility surrounding them. He doesn't want to return to the fremey level. If anything, Cartman wants to mean much more to Kyle than anyone else. Before Cartman can come up with the right words to say, Kyle responds to his wordy assault.

“I'm not Stan’s goddamn bitch! Besides, he's just been busy recently, as we all have been. He hasn't tossed me aside!”

The two share a moment of unspoken understanding.

This time, Cartman's tone is gentle as he voices the question that both of them seem to already know the answer to.

“Hasn't he?”

He isn't wrong. For the past couple of months, the duo has spent less time together than usual. Stan has been spending more time with his football team and has been since he made varsity this year. Now that he thinks about it, Cartman remembers how Kyle would have the same look of despair whenever Wendy would pass by wearing Stan’s letterman jacket. Kyle, being buried in his own projects, didn't allow himself to pester his best friend over the little time they've spent together recently. Still, being apart from Stan for longer than he's used to has been eating away at him. Kyle needed a way to reconnect with his distancing friend. He isn't quite sure if he loves him, but Kyle has missed Stan so much that it certainly seems to go beyond just the desire for friendship. Asking him out is supposed to solve everything.

After hearing those few words from Cartman, of all people, spoken with such sincerity, Kyle couldn't feel more idiotic. What is wrong with him? Is he so desperate for his friend's attention that he's willing to cause such needless drama? Wendy would despise him if his plan alone ever came to light, and would never talk to him again if he put it into action. It doesn't matter if Stan feels the same way or not. 

Why would he anyway? He's a kind, charismatic athlete, and Kyle is an annoyingly opinionated thespian who quit the basketball team to focus solely on theater.

Stan will never go for him. He'd probably laugh a confession off as a joke.

There's also a small part of him that wants Stan to reject him, and Kyle has no idea why.

With the sudden realization, Kyle's world begins to fall apart in front of him. Tears that he's refused to shed over his situation for ages flow down his cheeks without opposition. Knees buckling, Kyle rips the rubber band holding his barely controlled locks together, strands falling in tandem with his lost balance. Curls strike and bounce off his face once freed, Kyle taking comfort in how they cover his watery eyes as he drops to the floor, completely devastated.

His fingers dive into the red mess, gripping handfuls at the root. Breaths are released much too quickly and forcefully. For the first time in his life, the smart, responsible Kyle is having a panic attack.

Over what exactly? Through the excruciating inhales and his numbing death grip on his hair, Kyle isn't even sure anymore. He's felt overloaded for some time now, with his first chance to direct his original play, thinking seriously about college, and the fear of losing Stan have gradually been tearing him to pieces. Kyle just refused to let them, but now, he's too vulnerable to hold all of his worries back, and they jump at the opportunity to infect him with doubt and anguish.

Feeling lost, unsure of where he is anymore, Kyle nearly releases a pent up scream. When a hand is placed on his shoulder, the impulse to yell his frustrations out fades. He looks up to see Cartman, who looks more sorrowful than Kyle has ever seen him. At the sight of his frenemy’s guilt-wracked face, a part of him already begins to calm down. His breathing slows to a slightly less erratic pace. When Cartman pulls him into a tight embrace, everything that has plagued Kyle’s mind is forgotten, shocked out of his despair by Cartman's newfound kindness.

“It's okay, I've got you.”

Despite their not so friendly history and Cartman’s recent tirade, Kyle believes him. As the shock dies down and he recalls why he's still so upset, Kyle buries his head in Cartman's chest and cries his heart out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the great feedback!! Please continue to let me know what you think. :) This chapter ended up longer than expected, mainly because I love writing the banter between these two!

“Cartman, can I get your help on something?”

“Really? After doing most of the work on five different stage backgrounds, you dare to ask more of me? When am I going to start getting compensated for all my efforts, huh? You think that you can just use me as a soulless tool, like a slave or some whore--”

“You literally volunteered to help me with my play, and I know that you love to paint. Plus, you look at those backdrops like they're your babies or something.”

“That's beside the point!”

“Quit being an ass, fatass. Look, are you willing to help me or not?”

“That depends, my dear Kyle. How much cash we talking?”

“Just shut up and listen me.”

“Fine.”

Their bantering coming to a close, Cartman eyes Kyle from the desk chair as the redhead releases a heavy sigh, suddenly appearing anxious. Kyle can't seem to bring his eyes up from his bedsheets, and he locks his arms against his chest.

“The thing is, I need some help with the costumes.”

As Kyle lifts his gaze to Cartman, he's met with the brunette’s raised palm in his face. Kyle narrows his eyes, spotting bits of Cartman’s arrogant grin behind his large hand.

“No can do, gayboy. My incredible skills are limited to landscape. If I were as amazing in any other art form, it just wouldn't be fair to everyone else, you know?”

Annoyance flooding through Kyle, he leans over to stare at Cartman with a deadpan expression. Cartman merely winks at him, which Kyle rolls his eyes at.

“I'm not talking about designing the costumes. I already have those sketches done. You’re not the only one who can draw, you know. Here, let me show you.”

With that said, Kyle turns his back to Cartman, digging his hands under the bed. As the redhead reaches down, Cartman’s smug grin melts off his lips as he gapes at Kyle’s ass. He knows that Kyle is going to pull himself up at any second, and that he shouldn't be staring, or at least shouldn't be making it so goddamn obvious. 

Still, Cartman can't bring himself to look away. Just as Cartman mindlessly leans forward, Kyle halts his searching and brings his head back up. There's a perplexed look on his face, and Cartman wonders for a moment if Kyle has some sort of internal pervert alert system or something. Gripping the chair to keep from toppling out of it, Cartman scrambles to appear natural as Kyle cranes his neck back to meet his gaze.

“Aren't you gay too?”

The two stare at each other in silence. Cartman would've burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation if he hadn't nearly been caught drooling over his friend. To make matters worse, Kyle’s flat mouth starts to twitch upwards, clearly holding in his own laughter.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?!”

“You just insulted me for being gay.”

“Don't make things complicated, that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to use it.”

“It kinda does.”

“No, it doesn't.”

“Because then you're also insulting yourself.”

“Dammit, why can't you just let me say whatever I want without ruining it?”

“Because I'm a smartass?”

“Fuck yeah you are!”

“And you love me even still.”

“Fuck yeah I do!”

A sudden, harsh chill spreads along Cartman's skin, his eyes widening at what he just said. Fear and panic over his accidental confession override every inch of his being, utterly terrified at what comes next. He forces himself to look up at Kyle, but instead of his friend gawking at him, his back is already arched again as he continues to shuffle around below his bed.

‘I guess he didn't hear me…’

Finding the strength to tear his eyes away from Kyle’s beautiful backside, Cartman tilts his head back to gaze up to the ceiling and far past it.

‘Oh Lord, thank you so much for your mercy. I knew you were up there all along, looking out for me. I promise to be a better Christian from now on until the end of time.’

He probably isn't going to stick to that.

“Here it is! I have to hide it well or my mom will find it. I swear, sometimes I think she's half bloodhound.”

Cartman lowers his chin to look back at Kyle, who pats the spot next to him. After two close encounters, Cartman frets at the thought of being so close to Kyle, not to mention being on his bed. He hesitates for a moment, conflicted but not seeing an immediate way out that wouldn't seem suspicious, Cartman swallows before lifting himself off the chair. As he moves to sit down, Kyle sends him a smirk.

“Anyway, you should've just went with your derogatory Jew remarks instead. If you had, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now, would we?”

Cartman glares at his snarky friend, his nerves calmed a little after Kyle's continued attitude.

“You have no one to blame but yourself.”

In response, Cartman throws himself on top of Kyle, who gasps at the unexpected weight but still finds a way to laugh at what he's gotten himself into.

“Yeah? Well, neither do you, gayboy.”

Laughing through the pain, Kyle taps Cartman’s back repeatedly, signaling his surrender.

“You're right, I asked for that. I went too far, but I’ve learned my lesson. Now please get off before I snap in half.”

With a low, satisfied chuckle, Cartman rolls off of Kyle to the empty side of the bed. Kyle heaves in a breath, yet manages a smile through the speedy inhales.

“Has anyone ever told you that you should probably lose some weight?”

Cartman sends Kyle a dismissive look before inching forward to lay on him again. Kyle snorts and flinches back, hitting the wall behind him.

“Didn't you just say that you learned your lesson? It's like you're begging to get crushed again by all this muscle.”

“Right, it's definitely your muscles that were suffocating me, and certainly not anything else."

“Are you serious right now? Do you want to die that badly?”

“I don't know how to stop, man. I admit it, I have a problem.”

The two share another laugh until Kyle seems to remember what is he invited Cartman over for. Sitting up, he grabs his sketchbook and hands it to Cartman. He appears surprised to see such a thing, and Kyle realizes that Cartman is now the first person that knows about his other hobby. 

It's not that he's been trying to keep it a secret. Kyle just doesn't flaunt it, nor does he invest as much time into it in comparison to his main passions. Consequently, he also enjoys having a piece of his life kept only to himself. Growing up in a small town, everyone always seems to know everything about everyone. It's nice to keep one aspect of himself out of the light from long, curious noses that are always ready to sniff out new information about their fellow townsmen. 

Besides, if more people find out somehow, he won't mind too much. He's used to not having secrets, so if this one comes out eventually, he can at least be proud that he managed to hide it for so long from professional meddlers.

Despite being fairly confident in his work, Kyle grows anxious while watching the pages flip in Cartman's hold. No one has ever seen his sketches until now, and the prospect of being judged, regardless of who it is, causes Kyle's body to tense. Maybe he isn't as decent as he considers himself to be.

“Damn, you're actually pretty good. These all look really cool, I can't wait to see them made.”

Those words fill Kyle with relief and pride as he releases a breath he didn't realize he’d been holding. His mind cleared of that particular worry, Kyle returns his focus to his main objective.

“That's actually what I wanted to ask you about. Do you, by any chance, have any sort of experience with sewing?”

Cartman adjusts his position on the bed to glare down at Kyle, placing a hand on his chest as if offended by the possibility.

“Of course not, I'm not a girl.”

“I actually sew a bit.”

“Scratch that, I'm not a pussy.”

Kyle scoffs and playfully punches Cartman’s shoulder, which ends up hurting the brunette more than he'll ever admit. Twisting to lay on his side, Kyle faces his friend with a contemplative expression, clearly wondering if he should say what's on his mind.

“Oh, just spit it out. It's not like I can think any less of you.”

His words make Kyle’s lips perk up, and suddenly, the redhead remembers who he's talking to. There's no need to question if he should hold anything back. He's talking to Eric Cartman, one of his best friends.

That still doesn't sound plausible, yet here they are.

“I didn't think so. Basically, there is someone I know who is really good at this sort of thing. I have a couple people already on my costume team, mainly Kevin and some of his friends since they make their own cosplay outfits, plus Butters and Kenny, with me doing the little I can in that department. Kevin said that this guy is really talented, and when he told me who it is, I hesitated, but then he showed me some of his work and, I kid you not, I felt my eyes water at the mere thought of someone as skilled as him being part of my project.”

Cartman nods along but doesn't understand where Kyle is going with this. He tells himself to focus on his confusion rather than the tiny flare of irritation burning in the pit of his stomach at how much Kyle seems to need the guy even though he doesn't like him.

“Okay, so you have a boner for this dude’s work. Who is it that has you so freaked out?”

Nibbling on his bottom lip (the action totally not doing anything for Cartman), Kyle lowers his gaze to his open sketchbook. Scanning his design of the Elf King, he imagines what it would be like to see it crafted in reality, to be able to run his hands across the different fabrics and see it worn. 

It'll all be worth it, this is about making his dream come to fruition.

“Well, it's Kip Drordy, he's a freshman. I doubt that you remember him, he hardly made an impression on anybody when we were kids, and only recently has he made friends with people I actually know of.”

The lack of recognition in Cartman's blank stare confirms what he had thought, and he continues on.

“He's not a bad guy, but he seems to have some sort of interest in me, and has for as long as I can remember. I'm not sure if he just looks up to me or has a crush on me, but the few times I've been around him, he's made me kind of uncomfortable, and I ended up not bringing up the play whenever I tried to recruit him.”

Cartman opens his mouth to bombard Kyle with questions about this fanboy that's apparently been bothering him for several years, but Kyle raises his hand, motioning for him to stay quiet. Despite his newfound rage over someone creeping on Kyle for so long, Cartman presses his lips together in a firm line. His hands ball into fists in his lap, shaking ever so slightly. 

“I don't want to take advantage of whatever it is that he feels for me just to get him to work for me, but, as you put it, my thespian hard-on for his talent is crazy strong. Until I figure out how to deal with him properly, do you mind asking him for me if he'd be interested in joining us?”

‘Fuck no.’

Going against his urge to yell his frustrations out at his friend over these circumstances, Kyle’s pleading eyes take the fight out of Cartman. With an exaggerated sigh, Cartman nods in agreement. Kyle's beaming face tells him that he made the right choice, despite hating everything about what's to come of all this.

“Thanks, dude. I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants. I know I'm like a saint to you at this point.”

In a surprise attack, Kyle jumps on top of Cartman’s stomach, sending both of them into laughing fits.

God better make sure this decision doesn't bite him in the ass.

More specifically, he better keep this Kip freak from biting Kyle's ass.


End file.
